smile she could muster.
Trudy snickered toward her girlfriends. “What’s that, hon?”
Georgianna placed both hands on the edge of the table and leaned forward. She eyed up Trudy one last time and shook her head in disgust. “Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.”
Connor laughed out loud and winked at her as she sailed past his table head high, indignant, and feeling more than justified at her saucy attitude. If she had have taken the time to glance over her shoulder, she would have noticed Connor’s pal watching from the shadows. She would have seen his gaze linger longer than it should have, and maybe his dark good looks would have triggered a memory.
But as it was, she grabbed the round of drinks for her hockey boys and got on with her night.
Chapter Twelve
Ethan and Emily fell into a routine of sorts. It started slowly, him coming to town after work. The two of them having dinner together, then flipping through Netflix afterward to find a movie or documentary to watch. Emily hadn’t changed—she still enjoyed forensics, and he lost count of the murder-mystery type shows they consumed.
Occasionally, Ethan would spend the night at Emily’s. Not in her bed, but on the sofa. He was the perfect gentleman, and she was…distant.
The first time had been the Monday after they’d dropped the baby bomb on his parents. He’d come to town that afternoon and met Emily at her doctor’s. He’d been nervous, but what guy wouldn’t be? The entire thing was foreign to him—babies and mothers, and doctors who talked about hormones and growth charts and uteruses, placentas, and weight gain. They discussed the baby’s heartbeat, and he’d been able to listen in. It was fast and strong, and he felt humbled. And overwhelmed.
His baby’s heartbeat.
Ethan had kept his cool. Heck, he’d been concerned for Emily because she burst into tears at the sound and she’d already heard it—more than once. But inside, he was scared. He knew he was out of his element. He’d done a poor job of keeping it together these last few years. He’d fallen into a dark twisted tunnel and stayed there because it was easier then dealing with reality. If it weren’t for Emily and the baby, he’d still be back there. What did that say about him? How in hell was he supposed to look after a child? How was he supposed to be there for a kid who’d need someone to look up to?
He wasn’t built like his father, and the weight of it kept him up at night. There was a burn that festered beneath his skin, and sometimes, when he was alone in the shop working on a bike, he let that burn run hot. He felt as if it were only a question of time before he fucked up.
Unfortunately for Ethan, the opportunity came sooner than he thought. It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. He was meeting Link Major at the Coach House for a beer to give him an update on the bike. The Brit wasn’t a townie and most likely didn’t know Ethan’s history, or at least he’d never brought up Rick or Emily or the accident that had claimed Rick’s life, so he was looking forward to a beer and the opportunity to forget that stuff and shoot the shit with a guy who loved bikes as much as he did. They could continue their debate on the differences between Indian motorcycles and Harleys, and how his British-made Triumph fit into the picture.
Ethan got to the Coach House before Link and grabbed a spot at the bar. He ordered a draft from Tiny, a bartender who was the polar opposite of his nickname. The man was at least six foot six, with shoulders and muscle to match his height. The shaved head and tattoos were a smokescreen, though. According to some folks, Tiny had the softest heart in Crystal Lake.
He accepted his draft with a nod before grabbing his phone to check for messages. There was one from Link, sent a few minutes ago letting him know he was on his way. Two from his sister that he ignored, and other than that, nothing.
His finger hovered over Emily’s name, and he considered checking in with her, but pocketed his phone before he did. He hated feeling off-kilter. Not knowing how to proceed and the walking-on-eggshells thing was getting old. But he’d promised her, and when it came to this thing between them, she was driving the bus. It was up to Emily to